On January 19th, I finished my first half marathon. It was an unforgettable day—a frigid -3°C (that felt like -11°C with the wind), but I woke up feeling good, dressed up, and ready to go. The race was point-to-point, so we drove to the start line without much of a plan for how we’d get back later. Typical.
We met up with some friends who were also running, and despite the freezing cold, the energy was contagious. The pacers for a 2:50 finish were my starting point, and that’s who I ran with initially. Honestly, I was running faster than I usually do on my easy runs, but it felt manageable—my heart rate stayed in Zone 2, so I went with it.
I ran without music, soaking in the atmosphere. There were people cheering, handing out oranges and even bacon, and little kids giving high fives. The downhill course made it easier to run faster, and the cold seemed to numb any pain. At some point, I passed the 2:50 pacers, then the 2:40 pacers. For the first time, I thought, Maybe I can actually finish in 2:30. Originally, my goal was just to finish within three hours, but this pace felt surprisingly doable.
By mile 10, my ankle started hurting a bit, but I kept going. And my mind? For the first time, it stayed quiet. The negativity I usually battle during long runs wasn’t there. Anytime a negative thought popped up, I was able to let it go and focus on the weather, the cheers, and the experience.
This was a stark contrast to my training runs. During those, especially on hot days, I would spiral into negativity. I’d feel frustrated, hating the heat, hating the people on the trail, hating my music, hating my boyfriend for running faster than me, and ultimately, hating myself for feeling so much hate. But maybe that’s the point of training—you get all the negativity out so you can fully enjoy the race.
And that’s exactly what happened. During the half marathon, none of those feelings surfaced. I loved every moment, and it reminded me why I enjoy these races so much. The joy I felt that day was the result of all the difficult training runs I dreaded and hated. The work truly happens during the process, not just on race day.
I started reflecting on how this parallels my journey with starting a business. Building something great, just like running a race, is all about momentum and consistency. You sign up for the race, you commit to the training, and no matter what life throws at you, you show up. You fight through the negative emotions, the doubts, and the discomfort because that’s what it takes.
Looking back, I realized that so much of my life has been filled with fleeting passions. I’d pick something up, try it for a while, and give up when it got hard. Piano, guitar, clarinet, fashion design, acting, a YouTube channel, film, DJing, weight training, freediving, web app development—you name it, I’ve probably started and stopped it. Even my Etsy shop and tennis classes were abandoned after a few months. I’m so tired of giving up when things get tough.
This time, I’m determined to keep going. That’s why I’m writing this journal and sharing my journey with others—to hold myself accountable and make sure this idea doesn’t die like so many others. I’m committing to it until it becomes a reality.
After the race, we went to an AYCE sushi place to celebrate. The food was amazing, and as luck would have it, we ran into some people we’d met at the start line. Out of 5000+ runners, what were the odds? We ended up sitting together, sharing stories, and laughing. It was the perfect way to end the day.
Oh, and about that car we left at the start line? We didn’t realize it until the next day. Classic us.
It was a wonderful day, and for the first time in a while, I felt the momentum of something bigger carrying me forward.